


someday i hope you'll see the ghost of me

by turnip (calculus)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Complicated Relationships, Goong Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15369801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calculus/pseuds/turnip
Summary: Kwon Soonyoung, the modern-day Cinderella betrothed to the Crown Prince of Korea, Jeon Wonwoo, is having difficulties coming to terms with his new reality.He still can't get used to it. (A Goong visitation.)





	someday i hope you'll see the ghost of me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transit (dollyeo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollyeo/gifts), [historiologies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/historiologies/gifts), [thelaziesthufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelaziesthufflepuff/gifts), [sysupportgroup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sysupportgroup/gifts).



> lmfao if u rmbr goong then im so sry for what ur abt 2 read!!!!!! if u have no idea what goong is, please revisit the 2006 drama of the century, [goong](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Princess_Hours), or give the manhwa a try!! it's literally the most makjang you would expect from a concept like this lmfao

Soonyoung opens his eyes to an ornate red and blue-green-tiled ceiling, an intricate depiction of Silla warriors in training, and closes them back up again. On his second blink, he squints, pretends that it’s his old room again, with the shitty grout covering the ceiling holes and the weird mold growing over the corner of the room that his dad keeps saying they’ll get around to fixing.

It’s not his room, though. The ceiling remains auspicious and red, and Soonyoung rolls his face into the memory-foam pillow he’s been sleeping on for the past two months. His sheets are made of silk and Egyptian cotton with a thousand-thread count, and he’s wearing a pajama set worth more than what his mother makes in a week at their family restaurant.

He still can’t get used to this at all.

Uncaring of his misery, Soonyoung’s cell phone starts ringing, obnoxious and loud. He manages a short silent scream into his pillowcase before lifting himself upright and pushing his feet out of its warm cocoon. He grabs his cellphone from the antique bed stand, probably worth more than a year’s worth of rent at their family house, and turns off the alarm before scrolling through the overnight notifications. There’s nothing new, just a few likes on his latest instagram post and some messages from Jihoon and Seungkwan about coursework. Eunseo-noona also texted him a list of groceries to bring over for when he goes to visit this weekend, and Soonyoung makes a note to go shopping after class before he forgets again.

His morning routine, though displaced as he is, remains unchanged, even if he has to do his business in a gleaming white room filled with wall-length mirrors and separate areas for a gigantic bathtub and shower area. Soonyoung brushes his teeth roughly, grinding molars through a mouthful of toothpaste, and he catches a glimpse of himself, crusty and sleep-touched, from the sink mirrors.

He grimaces at himself, foam ringing his lips and hair in uncombed tufts. There are dark bags under his eyes, a failure to sleep despite his new living quarters, and an overall haggardness to his slouch that makes Soonyoung straighten his posture and scowl. Briefly, he thanks the powers that be that Wonwoo isn’t up at this time either because _he_ would definitely be having a field day with Soonyoung’s appearance.

Just the thought of Wonwoo’s handsome sneering face makes Soonyoung scowl even harder. His toothbrush creaks in his grip, and Soonyoung automatically loosens the fist formed, spitting out the toothpaste. He rinses his mouth and washes his face quickly, scrubbing away at his skin like he’s also scrubbing away at Jeon Wonwoo’s existence. It’s a good thing they can’t execute Soonyoung for his blasphemy against the royal family anymore.

He wipes his face with his shirt, and glances to the opposite door of the bathroom—the one that leads into Wonwoo’s quarters. Not for the first time, Soonyoung considers running into the room and giving Wonwoo the worst rude awakening of his life, but he just shakes his head clear of the thoughts and walks away.

 

Thankfully, his royal engagement never made it to the news channels, so Soonyoung remains as anonymous as the next fellow at his university. He runs to class with just enough time to spare, politely dismissing the chauffeur—his _own private driver_ —for a double transfer on the bus route instead.

Jihoon’s saved him a seat, bless him (and the ten separate texts Soonyoung’d sent him the hour before, complete with prostrating Moon and crying James stickers to punctuate his pleas), and Soonyoung gratefully slides into the row of seats, murmuring apologies to the legs he inevitably trips over. Jihoon, the asshole, just watches dispassionately as Soonyoung does his best to detangle his bag straps from one of the girls’ purses without ripping off the chains attached.

“Made it in time, huh? Good job,” Jihoon drawls, twirling a pen lazily between his fingers. Soonyoung gives him a fingered response, huffing as he finally sits down in the desk seat.

“Thanks for the help, fuckhead. Really appreciated the active role you had just now.” He throws his bag on the ground and snaps it open, pulling out his laptop to set on the desk.

“Gotta help keep you grounded,” Jihoon shrugs. “Let everybody else coddle his Royal Highness-to-be; I still remember you eating that kimbap roll off the floor last week without even the slightest ounce of shame.”

Soonyoung clicks his teeth, hissing as he turns his head around to make sure nobody else overheard. “Would you shut up about that! I was hungry, and I didn’t have any money left after spending it all on textbooks. And, also, fucking shut up about the _thing_ , would you!”

Jihoon rolls his eyes, but capitulates with a smirk. Their professor takes this moment to walk into the lecture hall, striding through the doors with hurried steps, and they absently watch as the man sets up. “By the way, will we be seeing His Highness today for your daily lunch date or did you manage to finally escape that too?”

“Shhh! Seriously, what the fuck, shut up!” Soonyoung shushes through clenched teeth, scowling. “Use the fucking code names; we’ve discussed this.”

“Okay, that’s my bad. But you can’t seriously expect me to use ‘He-Who-Must-Never-Be-Fucked’? What’s wrong with just calling Wonwoo by his name?”

“ _SHUSH!_ You know he’s like that urban legend curse: you say his name, and that fucker just shows up out of thin air just to make my life miserable.” Soonyoung throws his hands up, taking another quick look around the room.

“...You have a real problem with him, Soonyoung,” Jihoon says soberly after a pause. “What happened to the Kwon Soonyoung who was half-in-love with the Crown Prince like the rest of the college campus? I liked that Soonyoung better; he wasn’t as much as ass as you are right now.”

Soonyoung’s hands twitch on his keyboard, the only reaction he allows himself. He feels a little hurt, injured that Jihoon would prefer the Soonyoung who’d been living a normal, unfettered life two months ago, unsuspecting of his childhood betrothal to the _Crown Prince of Korea_ that would doom him to unexpected misery and judgment by fucking Jeon Wonwoo. But, truthfully, he thinks he prefers that version too, if only because the Kwon Soonyoung he is now can’t seem to find a way out of the nightmare he’s been forced into.

The thing is, to the country, Crown Prince Jeon Wonwoo is under all circumstances one of the kindest people alive. Royalty that he is, the prince still maintained that he was no different than any other citizen of Korea, just that his birthright gave him an official title. The people views him as the Heart of the Korea, and Wonwoo gives that love back with his continued grace and philanthropy, participating in charities and the betterment of the overall government. Soonyoung couldn’t go past a street without seeing something that was donated by the Crown Prince, a school or a park full of trees or a community center for the elderly, and it was something that had endeared him to Jeon Wonwoo so much. And beyond his kind heart is his idol-like appearance, perfectly coiffed hair and strong bone structure that would’ve made him inseparable from any of the current idols in rotation. There was never any doubt that Kwon Soonyoung would fall in love with a man so appealing as him.

But.

Crown Prince Jeon Wonwoo, the man, is a far cry from the country sweetheart. Wonwoo is infuriating and insulting, with blunt words that cut deeper in Soonyoung than any other asshole he’s come across, and never the slightest bit apologetic for it. He uses his words like a cloak, an impenetrable barrier that Soonyoung is forced to deal with day after day because they fucking _live together_ , and there is never a reprieve allowed for Soonyoung. Maybe it would be better if Wonwoo was just cold and arrogant to him, but instead, Wonwoo is just everywhere. He pushes and pushes without stop, and if there were any kindness afforded, Soonyoung has never been faced with it.

Jihoon wouldn’t understand. Soonyoung doesn’t think even he himself understands it.

He’s just tired, is all.

 

 

 

(When they were both boys, Soonyoung and Wonwoo had met in the dirtyards of Soonyoung’s harabeoji’s chicken farm. Just two boys, without the labels of a title or a country future overhanging their heads, and they had taken to each other so instantly, it made Soonyoung’s harabeoji laugh. Wonwoo’s harabeoji, the late Gyeong-taesangwang, had been so pleased, he’d promised Wonwoo a stuffed Anpanman immediately after.

They played with the chickens, Soonyoung’s favorite Makki and Sunja running after him and Wonwoo with the ferocity only chickens could have, and spent the afternoon helping Soonyoung’s grandfather picking strawberries from the patch. Gyeong-taesangwang had taken picture after picture, and Wonwoo, unbothered by the attention, had given all his best strawberries to a charmed Soonyoung. He’d been touched, harabeoji would say later on, he’d given Wonwoo a kiss back, loud and smacking on the cheeks, and made Wonwoo so flustered the boy started crying. It took another ten kisses, frantic and assuring, from Soonyoung to calm young Wonwoo down, and by then, Gyeong-taesangwang had taken so many pictures, he’d run out of camera space.

Soonyoung doesn’t remember this at all, can barely reconcile the image of a chubby, red-cheeked tiny Wonwoo who would be so flustered at a small kiss on the cheeks with the tall, sharp man he knows today. But, there is something to be said for the nostalgia; he remembers, instead, the soft press of fingers in his palm and the sticky sweetness of ripe red strawberries and the giggling brush of laughter against his ears. He remembers this, and the softest brown eyes staring up at him—because the blurry boy in his memories had been shorter, and if this was all he could remember, Soonyoung will forever hold this over Wonwoo’s head—and Soonyoung’s barely-realized promise that he would love this boy no matter what.

It feels like a funny dream now.)

**Author's Note:**

>  **taesangwang** : grand king former
> 
> [nini voice] lmfao its all finished in our heads


End file.
